


The Illusionists

by ALRiter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Illusions, M/M, Magic, Mythology - Freeform, Other, The Illusionist - Freeform, Underworld, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 12:12:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8401240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALRiter/pseuds/ALRiter
Summary: Brad and Nick are illegitimate heirs to 'Die Unterwelt' (The Underworld) Outcast to earth, and abandoned they are then adopted and grow up together completely unaware of their origin. Until one day things start to change...It's like the feud of Scar and Mufasa from The Lion King.... meets Dante's Inferno.... meets Greek Mythology.... meets a story you'll never forget.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If there are lots of typos, tell me, if there are past/present tense changes, tell me! If there are POV switches that shouldn't be there, tell meeeee! I am just happy that I'm finally trying to make written progress on this story... I've been building it and building it for about 10 years and just never got to writing it all down. SO that's the main thing to me. If anyone wants to help beta my work, pleaaaaaaaaaaaaase let me know. It should be fairly simple. And I can maybe even pay them via paypal.... Anyway, I hope that you all enjoy, and please leave kudos if you like it and want to read more. This plot is going to be epic as fuckkkkk!!!!

Brad awoke to the sound of his screaming alarm clock, warm and exhausted. Nothing beats waking up in a fabric coffin of your own sweat, and the migraines are always quick to join in on the fun. But waking up from chronic nightmares isn’t even the real horror. His whole life is.  
Still, Brad drags himself from his bed and pulls the sweaty tank top off of his pale, cold body, and makes his way towards the bathroom.

Brad runs his hand through his sweat damp hair, the short buzzed natural black underneath revealed as he combs his fingertips through the tousled shaggy blonde on top haircut. He sighs and pushes the section of hair that hangs longer in front of his left eye aside as he makes his way to the shower. The stubborn nozzle wheezes and the spout above screams to life. Brad turns to the mirror as he waits for the water to warm. He gazes into the mirror, bags of insomnia under his eyes, packed as if they were too heavy to be moved. And his jaw grew sandy brown stubble as he had been too tired to shave for a couple days. He traced his jaw and rubbed the lawn on his face before sighing as he pulled open the mirror cabinet to ignore his complexion completely.

Brad pulled out a bottle of migraine medicine along with a bottle of scotch, and tossed the pills into his mouth hoping to drown his misery, because he really, really, didn’t want it as company today. Although, Brad doubted that he would be so lucky.

Things in Brad’s life probably seem to others as if he was simply a troubled guy. Sure Brad was quiet around strangers, and distant with friends, but he hid his issues relatively well. It was harder to hide when he was younger. He often had violent outbursts at things no one else could see, and traumatic nights coated his complexion with something concealer could never hide. But aside from that, most of what ails him was written off as part of what comes with adopting a child who's origins are unknown. For the most part Brad is all right with that. Because if others were to see him in his daily life, they would see a nicotine, narcotic, and alcohol addicted 24 year old, who hallucinates some of the craziest shit you can imagine, and somehow keeps all that frightening chaos from being realized by the general public, not to mention his neighbours. Oh, and we may as well add in that crows and ravens like to follow him EVERYWHERE.

So yeah, he’s a pretty ‘normal’ kid. Right, well, that’s what Brad used to tell himself. Now he just goes with the flow of insanity, and tries to keep his paper route job, and for the most part, keep his parents happy and blissfully unaware of his struggles. Aside from the useless counselor they pay for him to see.

Brad’s parents are currently out travelling. As per usual, and they only really stop back at home every few months. The two are quite honestly still in their honeymoon stage a good 30 years into their marriage, and with Brad as their dependable adopted son, and house sitter, the two found it easy enough to go on those vacations they couldn’t afford when they were younger.

So, Brad has the house pretty much to himself. And apart from his parents, he doesn’t really have anyone else; Except for Nick, his best friend since childhood. Nick is tall, with dunkel Schwartz hair that swooshes past his eyes, and scoops around his head in a billowy how-much-do-you-pay-for-YOUR-conditioner, fashion. He maintains a closely trimmed fashionable stubble, wears glasses, and stands at about 3 inches below most doorways, thus making him an attractively tall man with a healthy muscular build. So basically Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, and he's a lady killer. But not in the way that you might think.

Brad on the other hand is about 6’, quite pale, and trim, but not skinny. He could have been an attractive guy, but his sleek facial features, pronounced high cheekbones, piercing right eye, and curiously styled hair, are overshadowed by the toll his mental state has on him. The permanent dark bags under his eyes, and the flighty near terrifying way he creeps around avoiding things unseen tends to turn away any curious glances sent his way as soon as they saw his left eye, discreetly hidden behind his blonde bangs. His left eye, in fact, was completely white. It was a foggy off white almost entirely blind spot, and he’d gotten much grief for it over the years. I’m sure you can imagine what school was like.

But really school wasn't that bad. After the frequent nurse, counselor, and principal’s office visits turned into a routine, and the nightmares woke his parents one too many times, he began home schooling, and weekly counselling. A variety of treatments and medications were cock-tailed to try and treat Brad’s insomnia – amongst other issues – and after a more or less ‘stable’ routine was achieved, Brad was a successful walking, mostly not talking, zombie of medicated perfection. And he was sent back to public school.

Hurrah.

Brad, however, was not actually cured. He was simply very good at hiding his troubles from certain people. The nightmares had never stopped, the insomnia was simply a way to avoid the dreams, and headphones at least kept him from hearing the crows that stalked his every step, and he knew exactly what to say at therapy these days.

Besides, the only therapist he needed was his friend Nick. Nick had been his friend since they were both adopted. Apparently they were inseparable, and so their adoptive families lived within a block from each other for all their lives, and thus, they were able to stay together while being adopted apart.

And perhaps that was for the best. Nick was a prodigy, and one of the ‘cool kids’. Brad would have only hindered that. Nick graduated top of their class, and Brad, well, he had been a perfect Yang to Nick’s Yin, having barely graduated. But Nick still smiled and hugged his best buddy in the photos after graduation, and Nick had all but ignored everyone else who congratulated him afterwards, because he was too busy pushing through the waves of gowns to find one slumped, socially exhausted, pale, clammy, hidden in the corner, lame excuse of a best friend, who happened to be having a nervous breakdown.

Nick had known. From the second he saw Brad walk off the platform with his diploma. He saw Brad cover his mouth and hold back a dry heave of anxiety before darting for the hallway as soon as he was out of sight. But Nick noticed, and as always, Brad was Nick’s priority. So as soon as the square hats and tassels went flying, Nick bolted for the door to go find Brad.

Touching isn’t it? A genuine blockbuster bromance movie moment. Get your Kodak’s ready, because you’re just in time to see……

…Nick holding back Brad’s wimpy bangs as he throws up in the bathroom urinal.

Yeah, Polaroid moment right there.

“Ah, come on Brad. You did fine. No one noticed, and I’m sure mom and dad got some really great photos before you dashed out.”

“Yeah, uh huh, sure, I hope they got my good side, ya know. The one coated in cold sweat.” Brad groaned and laid his forehead on the heal of his hand clutching the less than clean, and very slimy porcelain rim.

Nick rubbed circles into Brad’s back as he grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser. “Here. Just… Take a minute and we’ll go out together. I’m sure the crowd is more or less simmered down by now and-“

The bathroom door was kicked open and a couple of rowdy graduates jumped around shouting about freedom before whipping out their dicks and pissing messily on the urinals for ‘the last god damn time’.

Brad slowly straightened up and went to wash his hands as Nick blocked their view of Brad. Nick sneered and placed Brad’s cap back on, adjusting it so it hid his face.

“There. See. Freedom. After today you don’t have to stare at these fucktards all day. Just you and me buddy. Free at last!” Nick said and flicked the golden tassel dangling from the side.

“What did you say you fucking primadona?” One of the boys growled in a sour voice and stomped towards Brad and Nick. Brad’s eye twitched and he glanced at Nick.

“I saaaaid…. After today, we won’t have to stare at you FUCKTARDS all god damn day!” Nick bellowed and smirked as he cocked his head to the side.

“You fucker. I’ve been waiting for this!” The rebellious thug shouted and pumped his fist back ready to throw the first punch. But Nick ducked under and lifted his long knee right into the guys gut, and he heaved out a grunt as his two friends rushed forward also ready to fight. But Nick simply straightened his leg out, kicking the gasping boy into his friends. The fall knocked one of them to the ground with a sickening thud of a skull hitting a urinal, and the other sidestepped but nearly tripped before lunging at Nick with venom in his voice. But Nick de-fanged him quickly with a swift uppercut to the jaw and with very little leverage needed pushed the remaining man’s head to the side and watched him tumble into an open stall, falling heavily against the toilet with a satisfying ‘sploosh’.

Brad raised an eyebrow and smirked as Nick looked back at him with a huge pearly white grin.

“Brad and Nick, 1 – Assholes, 0.” Nick licked his finger and ticked his finger in the air with an invisible tally mark and wrapped his arm around Brad’s shoulder.

“You were sooooooo planning this weren’t you?” Brad rolled his eyes as he stepped on the ankle of one of the groaning hooligans as he passed.

“Oh, Yes! For aaaages! Man, that felt SO good!” Nick basked in the glory of having slugged the crap out of the thugs who had terrorised him and Brad for the entirety of their high school years one last wonderful time.

“Uh huh… I figured as much. So, next we go find mom and dad and… wait, wait.. hold up.” Brad halted and stepped in front of Nick. He took Nicks sash and adjusted it, pulling it over a small blood droplet on the front of his white graduation robe. “There, that’s better. We can’t have the ‘Honour Student’ wearing his extracurricular activities badge of honour in plain sight for our parents to see. We may not have to answer to the school anymore, but our parents are a thousand time more terrifying.”

“Agreed.” Nick said with a nod and fiddled with the sash that was now an effectively placed disguise for his blood stain. “Now, let’s hurry up before our parents think we bolted for the next plane out of this sorry ass town.”

“Right… tell me again why we AREN’T heading for a plane out of this sorry ass town, anyway?!” Brad mused as he jogged along side of Nick back to the school gym.

“Harr Harr. Funny. You know why.” Nick said and tried to step on Brad’s black and white Chucks.

“True. You’d never go anywhere without me. You big baby.” Brad teased. He knew that Nick had a big future ahead, but he had decided to stay in their small town and keep his job at the diner until Brad’s parents returned for good. Because if Nick left…. There would be no one around for Brad. And even though Nick never said it outright, Brad knew that was why Nick had chosen to stay. And Brad was really relieved, because besides Nick, he didn’t have anyone. Not a single soul.

And he didn’t know what would happen if he didn’t have Nick. He didn’t even want to think about it.

So with a small thankful grin, Brad and Nick rushed off to the crowded room of strangers, and people they just wanted to forget about, and hoped that this day would soon be over. Because really they just wanted to spend time with each other.

\---


	2. Nicotine - Crash And Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a filler thing. A one shot. Snapshot into the dynamic of Brad and Nick's relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eventually I'll start actually posting the story from the beginning as chapters.. but for now I'm still trying to wind myself up for that.... It's a hefty story with a lot of plot and details that need to be strung together *just so*. It needs to be done carefully or it could get confusing.... there's a lot of past/present/future mingling... and paradoxes, and people meeting people before they meet them and things... it's complicated.... so.... bear with me.

Nick often came over unannounced. Partly out of familiarity, and partly out of concern for Brad. Who knows what he was up to… he had a tendency to ‘self medicate’. ‘Anything to stop the nightmares.’ As Brad would say.

One day Nick walked in and couldn’t find Brad. He walked through the home until he realized perhaps Brad was outside…. Smoking.

Unfortunately Nick’s hunch was right, for as he slid the patio door aside he saw Brad leaning on the railing, a cigarette between his long fingers, and surprisingly a peaceful expression on Brad’s face as he looked up at the moon. But that expression changed so suddenly, since the door opening had alerted Brad to Nick’s arrival.

“Hey.” Brad said softly with a small smile, and took a drag off the cigarette.

“Hey.” Nick echoed as he stepped out onto the wooden patio. “I thought you quit smoking.”

Brad exhaled, then replied smugly, “What are you? My mom or somethin’?” He took another drag and spoke as he continued to retain the smoke within his lungs, “Besides, you started smoking long before I did. You STILL smoke.” Brad retorted and glanced towards Nick as he blew the smoke out the side of his mouth.

Nick thought for a moment but just as he was about to say something to the effect of Brad shouldn’t follow his shitty example, Brad held out another cigarette towards Nick, and that shut up any protest he would have tried before then.

Nick sighed and took the cigarette. Silently admitting defeat. Damn shitty addiction to have, but what could he, or Brad do for that matter. Brad turned around and they both leaned on the railing side by side. Silently they stood for a few moments in silence. 

They both relied on different ‘things’ to keep them sane… as possible. And at least this was better than some of the things Brad had tried in the past. Which may seem surprising, considering how terrible cigarettes are, but if you knew Brad’s past, it wouldn’t surprise you so much.

Sadly, the cigarettes are actually more of a relief. So Nick pressed the cigarette between his teeth and reached into his pocket for his lighter. But Brad already had his out and held it up, flicking his thumb over the metal wheel, bringing a flame to the tip. Nick sucked the hot mix of smoky toxins and chemicals into his already blackened lungs and held his death sentence in a bit longer, accepting fate.

Was it fate? Perhaps the two of them were more alike than Nick would like to admit; maybe they both were headed to the same terrible end, just down different but equally rocky paths. 

“We’re a pair all right….” Nick said pessimistically. And sighed out his nicotine fix.

Brad stared over at Nick, analyzing Nick’s statement and his posture. It seemed more pensive than usual. Less carefree. That was unusual, but not exactly rare. I guess this was one of those moments where they just both needed to wear their emotions on their sleeves and be in each other’s company.

“Yeah, we’re a pair…” Brad said and killed the last of his cigarette in one hit. Then flicked it down to stomp it out. His eyes lingering on the flattened roll for a few seconds longer than necessary, Nick thought it was funny how much he could relate to that dead cigarette laying on the splintered boards of the patio.

“Brad…. Do you ever think that we will end up like that cigarette, burned, used up and crushed…”

“Yeah. I do… but I try not to think about it.” Brad said flatly, and pushed up off of the railing, and headed toward the house. “Come on, I wanna beat your ass at COD. I have beer.”

Nick smirked and sucked on the last of his cigarette slowly, tasting its chemicals. He looked back up at the bright moon. Maybe they would crash and burn… but Hell, what wouldn’t he go through for Brad’s sake? Nothing. That’s what.

And with that, his thoughts ended as he tasted the bitter burn of the filter, and tossed away his cigarette and walked into the house. 

Shaking the cool night air off of his weary bones with animated murder, and ice cold beer.


End file.
